Princess of Tides
by Divinia Serit
Summary: “We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.” DARK read the author's note , Jane/Lisbon COMPLETE


**This was written for the July09 challenge on the Jello-Forever forum- Beach Times.**

**You would think that such a summery prompt would lead me to a happy, carefree piece, but somehow my mind when the opposite way. The title is inspired from Pat Conroy's novel The Prince of Tides. I've also referenced Virginia Wolfe and Shakespeare's Ophelia. Be forewarned, it's different from my usual stuff! **

**WARNING: This story does contain suicidal thoughts. Very dark so it may seem OOC, but does contain Jane/Lisbon.**

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing this disclaimer now, would I?**

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_**Princess of Tides**_

_**By Divinia Serit**_

"_We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop."_

_--Mother Teresa_

She could feel the spray of salt water stick to her sun-burnt face as the wind whipped through her tousled hair. Her eyes were closed as she leaned against the pier, while her fingers absentmindedly fiddled with a loose string on her sleeve. It was a muggy July evening and the undercurrents of an approaching storm electrified the air as the sun began to set. She wasn't sure how much time had passed while she stood alone against a backdrop of meandering dunes.

Silently, she untied her shoes and carefully placed them on the boardwalk. Shrugging out of her blazer, she rolled her pant legs up before walking down the stairs. She could feel the worn surface of the old wood under her bare feet as she made her way to the sand below. She sighed as she sunk into the warm, dry sand. Each individual particle seemed to scratch at her skin, eager to imprint its memory of paths long traveled.

She continued to walk with uncertain purpose past the drift line where shells and dead seaweed were haphazardly strewn about, unable to return to the distant waters that stranded them at high tide. The sand started to moisten and sink between her toes as she steadily moved forward leaving a vanishing path of faint imprints. A tiny pool of water encircled her feet as the water continued its eternal journey: ebb and flow, ebb and flow.

She paused then, the water lapping at her feet like a stray dog longing for someone to come closer, to ease the loneliness. Her emerald eyes took on a vacant expression as the luster faded and she closed them once more. She inhaled deeply and the salty air stung her lungs as a flash of lightning danced across the sky. A lone tear streaked down her cheek and fell unhindered to the swirling water below.

She remembered when the beach held blissful memories, whimsical adventures with imaginary creatures. As a child, she demanded that her father help her build an elaborate sandcastle so that she may survey her surrounding kingdom. A princess of the sea, her brothers would often wage war upon her, dragging her back to their watery kingdom. Her father would sweep in and rescue the fair princess, pulling her from the sea monsters' grasp as her mother's laugh would ring out across the beach. Those days shattered along with the family sedan and no one was there to rescue her again.

A low rumble of thunder startled her out of her reflection. She took another step into the surf, then another. Blindly placing one foot in front of the other, the seaweed threatened to ensnare her as it curled around her ankles. As Ophelia had her flowers, she would have her seaweed. It wasn't love that broke her heart, but the wrongness of the world, the destruction of innocence.

The water was up to her waist and the waves gently broke around her. She turned her face upward to the night sky as a soft mist started to fall. She cried freely then, her tears mixing with the rain and the sea. She never looked back as she felt the tide beckon to her, pulling her farther and farther from the so called safety of dry land.

As a rookie she thought she would be able to make a difference. Those words probably graced every young person's thoughts she later decided. It was the dream of the young: to make a difference, to be remembered. It was all in vain. The world she had vowed to change had instead chewed her up and stripped away her innocence, leaving her like a ship along the coast without a lighthouse as the rocky cliffs loomed ahead.

A jagged bolt of lightning flashed closer as she took a deep breath and submerged her head under the crashing surf. It would be so easy to just let go and drift away to the seaside kingdom of her childhood. Her thoughts flashed to her team and she wondered if they were too caught up in their own charade to notice her as she slowly lost her grasp on her sanity. It would devastate them, but she was tired of living for others. Another piece of her soul was ripped away after every case, and she longed to do something selfish.

She wondered if Jane would understand. He was so willing to lay down his life for a selfish cause, but would he accept that others had the same right? She had spent many a sleepless night praying to a God she no longer believed in to allow him to see that others cared. She cared. She had decided it wasn't enough. Dreams of a fictional life would not save her from the demons that threatened to overtake her.

Her lungs were burning when she came up for another breath. It had almost been too late. The rain dripped down her face as a lone seagull soared by, barely weathering the storm. Taking a step backward, she followed the bird's flight until it vanished. The current was becoming stronger now, and she was in danger of losing her footing, but she remained stationary as she mulled over the significance of the single bird.

A strong grasp encircled her then, and she found herself being crushed to the soaking form of her blond consultant. Sobs racked his body as he stroked her hair, whispering words of apology. She slowly raised her arms until she was grasping on to him with all she had left. Burrowing her face into his warmth, she relaxed into his rhythmic breathing that seemed to be in perfect time with the crash of the waves and slowly started to come back into herself. They stood there for several minutes, tangled together as flashes of light played across the sky.

He pulled back from her then, and she closed her eyes under the intensity of his gaze. He cupped her face and she felt his thumbs lightly stroke her cheekbones as he pressed a feathery kiss to her forehead. She didn't protest as he gently lifted her and cradled her shivering form as he respected her need for silence. He resisted the call of the ocean and returned to the sand and she wondered if she had been wrong. Maybe there was someone who could still rescue her from the sea monsters.


End file.
